Betok_Haney
Well-Known Member
Thank you for taking the time to read my first critique post. This is the story's opening scene. I am interested in all critique and recommendations. Questions that I have include:
** Does the writing flow well? Is it easy to read?
** Does the opening offer a hook to want you to read more?
** Is there too much, or too little descriptive text? Am I telling more than showing, or is there a good balance?
Again, thank you!
A young woman emerged into the chamber, clutching her newborn son. As she entered, she gazed in wonder at this holy space, hidden from most. Sunlight poured through the windowed dome high above, draping across the marbled stone chamber in golden curtains, illuminating colorful iconography depicting great defenders of the faith. At the center of the chamber, a bronze brazier released lazy drifts of smoke, creating a light haze and releasing the sweet aromas of pine and sage. The priest, dressed in his opulent robes, stood in the middle of the chamber on a raised dais with his acolyte hovering close behind him.
The priest solemnly regarded the woman’s diminutive frame and fearful countenance. She was one of a select few, and he considered her fortunate, despite her miserable appearance.
“Come, child” he said, motioning for her to draw closer.
She hesitated, and then padded toward the priest. When she reached him, she genuflected, her eyes downcast.
“Who are you?” the priest asked.
“I am a child of The Four,” she answered.
“Why do you come?”
“So that my son may be baptized in service to—”
“No,” the priest interrupted, holding up a hand.
She winced, recognizing her error.
“So that this child may be baptized in service to The Church,” she corrected.
The priest nodded, and the acolyte approached her and collected the child in his arms. The priest dismissed her, and she retreated to the side of the chamber.
The priest turned his face upward and muttered a silent prayer. After a few moments, he lowered his gaze and began the ritual.
“I evoke the name of the Infinite Wisdom, Lyggat, so you may discern the true path with clear mind,” the priest said as he dipped his finger in a bowl of dark oil and drew a smear across the child’s forehead.
“I evoke the name of the Eternal Fire, Sjordat, to ignite your heart with desire to serve The Church, even when overcome with pain,” he said as he took a small brand from the brazier and pressed the red-hot tip onto the child’s chest, searing the Defender’s Mark over his heart. The child screamed with pain as the acolyte struggled to hold him. The priest continued, unfazed, his voice rising above the child’s cries.
“I evoke the name of the Limitless Strength, Minyat, to forge your body as weapon and shield against the enemy, the heretic, the heathen,” he said as he took the ceremonial blade from a table and made tiny cuts on the child’s arms and legs, drawing beads of blood. The chamber continued to echo with the child’s screams. The mother covered her mouth with one hand, stepping forward and reaching out toward her son. The acolyte glared at her and shook his head, halting her advance.
“And I evoke the name of the Abysmal Spirit, Aanat, to fill your soul with the purpose that has been created in you,” the priest said as he smeared the child’s blood into a network of interconnecting lines to the chest brand.
The priest raised his hands, palms up, and concluded, “With this rite, I bless this child by the names of The Four, and thereby consecrate his life in service. May his burdens be our salvation.”
He turned to the woman and nodded to his acolyte.
“You may have a moment,” the priest said.
She approached them and the acolyte handed her the crying, squirming baby. She gathered her son against her chest and rocked him gently from side to side. She wept as she consoled him, for she knew she would never hold him again, and this would be the last time she would see him alive.
** Does the writing flow well? Is it easy to read?
** Does the opening offer a hook to want you to read more?
** Is there too much, or too little descriptive text? Am I telling more than showing, or is there a good balance?
Again, thank you!
A young woman emerged into the chamber, clutching her newborn son. As she entered, she gazed in wonder at this holy space, hidden from most. Sunlight poured through the windowed dome high above, draping across the marbled stone chamber in golden curtains, illuminating colorful iconography depicting great defenders of the faith. At the center of the chamber, a bronze brazier released lazy drifts of smoke, creating a light haze and releasing the sweet aromas of pine and sage. The priest, dressed in his opulent robes, stood in the middle of the chamber on a raised dais with his acolyte hovering close behind him.
The priest solemnly regarded the woman’s diminutive frame and fearful countenance. She was one of a select few, and he considered her fortunate, despite her miserable appearance.
“Come, child” he said, motioning for her to draw closer.
She hesitated, and then padded toward the priest. When she reached him, she genuflected, her eyes downcast.
“Who are you?” the priest asked.
“I am a child of The Four,” she answered.
“Why do you come?”
“So that my son may be baptized in service to—”
“No,” the priest interrupted, holding up a hand.
She winced, recognizing her error.
“So that this child may be baptized in service to The Church,” she corrected.
The priest nodded, and the acolyte approached her and collected the child in his arms. The priest dismissed her, and she retreated to the side of the chamber.
The priest turned his face upward and muttered a silent prayer. After a few moments, he lowered his gaze and began the ritual.
“I evoke the name of the Infinite Wisdom, Lyggat, so you may discern the true path with clear mind,” the priest said as he dipped his finger in a bowl of dark oil and drew a smear across the child’s forehead.
“I evoke the name of the Eternal Fire, Sjordat, to ignite your heart with desire to serve The Church, even when overcome with pain,” he said as he took a small brand from the brazier and pressed the red-hot tip onto the child’s chest, searing the Defender’s Mark over his heart. The child screamed with pain as the acolyte struggled to hold him. The priest continued, unfazed, his voice rising above the child’s cries.
“I evoke the name of the Limitless Strength, Minyat, to forge your body as weapon and shield against the enemy, the heretic, the heathen,” he said as he took the ceremonial blade from a table and made tiny cuts on the child’s arms and legs, drawing beads of blood. The chamber continued to echo with the child’s screams. The mother covered her mouth with one hand, stepping forward and reaching out toward her son. The acolyte glared at her and shook his head, halting her advance.
“And I evoke the name of the Abysmal Spirit, Aanat, to fill your soul with the purpose that has been created in you,” the priest said as he smeared the child’s blood into a network of interconnecting lines to the chest brand.
The priest raised his hands, palms up, and concluded, “With this rite, I bless this child by the names of The Four, and thereby consecrate his life in service. May his burdens be our salvation.”
He turned to the woman and nodded to his acolyte.
“You may have a moment,” the priest said.
She approached them and the acolyte handed her the crying, squirming baby. She gathered her son against her chest and rocked him gently from side to side. She wept as she consoled him, for she knew she would never hold him again, and this would be the last time she would see him alive.